Broken Girls And Broken Boys

Chapter Fifteen: I brought my hot guy pesticide.

The coffee flask is boiling in my hands, setting my skin alight with blazing heat- I ignore the pain and carry on down through the Uni grounds; it's the only glimpse of heat in the cold air and I relish in the way it warms me up. I battle against the strong wind as it whips straight through me, unravelling my layers one by one until it pierces my core with its icy dagger. A deep chill runs through my veins and I grip onto the travel mug tighter, hoping it will release the glorious summer days I'm craving.

The courtyard is empty-there is no one brave enough to face the weather apart from me. Or maybe I'm just a little insane.

OK, a lot insane!

I pull open the door to the humanities block before throwing my whole body into the heat of the corridor. No one turns to face me as I shrug off the endless amount of layers that failed to keep me warm. Gulping down the last of my coffee (though it scolds my tongue in the process) I wade through the masses of people in the corridor, hoping to find Maria. After a few minutes I give up, too lazy to continue with the search- students are packed into every once of the block like sardines in a tin.

"Kendall," I hear someone call my name from far away but I'm too busy pushing my way past people to turn around. Quickly, I shove my coffee flask deep into my bag with the hope that I won't find stains all over my books and pencil case later.

A hand brushes mine and I turn around to find deep blue eyes staring into mine. I gulp and push back my anxiety- instead I bite down on my lip to stop myself form shouting in front of all these people. It's not like Grant and I haven't had a spectacle in front of lots of people, I'm just too tired to have my name circling around the grounds for the next fortnight- I've had enough whispers about me to last a lifetime.

"We need to talk," he mutters and though we're in a crowded corridor filled with hundreds of noisy students, I still catch his every word- he is now so close to me that I can feel his minty breath on my cheek.

Instead of arguing with him, I nod-my teeth are still firmly on my lip, gnawing away at it. He takes my hand; it's surprisingly soft and far too large in my own. "Follow me, I know somewhere that'll be quiet," he pulls me away from the crowd and guides me through the humanities block.

Though I'd rather be as far away from him as possible, my hand doesn't stray from Grant's grip; I push back the tingle that shoots up my arm and concentrate on keeping my resting bitch face as low-key as possible.

Not that it ever is.

Everywhere I go its screaming at people.

He takes me through a series of corridors, each more crowded than the last until we reach a small doorway. Grant says nothing at all to me but instead tightens his grip and pulls me into the narrow hallway.

It's silent; the loud growl of the people down the other corridors is but a mere hum. Grant pushes open the last door and switches on a light; his hand tugs me into the small room before he lets me go.

My hand aches as he slips from my grip and I ignore the emptiness I feel as he distances himself from me. "What is this place?" I ask; I was so sure I knew every corner of this University- especially the Humanities block.

I let my eyes glide around the room; the walls are lined with books of every size and colour, organised alphabetically- I run my hands along the spines of them before sitting down in one of the old armchairs stood in front of a fireplace. Grant joins me in the adjacent one, his knees pulled close to his chest as if he's guarding himself. I tuck my legs underneath my body and turn to face him.

"Just some old place I found," he mutters, running a hand through his distressed hair- it hasn't improved much since last time I saw him; it's still a curly mess on the top of his head. I nod, unsure what to make of the silent room.